


Daybreak

by ihaveaplan



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Bellice - Freeform, Canon Queer Relationship, F/F, bella x alice, no edward/bella, wlw alice, wlw bella
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 05:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihaveaplan/pseuds/ihaveaplan
Summary: Bella Swan was taken aback by many things in Forks, as it was like a new world to her. The environment was surprising, the people unexpected, but her gut-wrenching feelings for the beautiful Alice Cullen? She was wholly unprepared for them.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Bella Swan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	1. Prologue: Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Marie Patten here- if you like this and want more Daybreak content, check out its tumblr page!   
daybreaksaga.tumblr.com  
I post updates, fan material, and other great stuff there. You can even find the companion playlist, which I add to as I write.

It has been said over the centuries, that it was the apple that Eve plucked from the tree that brought the downfall of man, the disgrace of women, and the end of the age of innocence. But what wisdom it must have held, to be not ignorant, but defiant. How sweet it must have tasted; freedom and danger as a delicious mix.


	2. Into the Wilderness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.daybreaksaga.tumblr.com

I had convinced myself that leaving Arizona would be good for me, and to be fair, I would’ve had to leave my home regardless of what I had chosen to make of it- but it rested easier in the pit of my stomach to tell myself, “This will be fine. This is a new chapter.” But looking back on my empty home as I closed the door one last time, this forced optimism was difficult to reconcile. 

My mom took my hand and squeezed it, giving me one of those trademark “Cheer up, Buttercup” smiles, though I could tell that her stomach was probably just as knotted as mine was right then, if not even more. Beyond summer camp, this was the first time I had truly left home- and this time, there would be no “Welcome Home!” party waiting for me at the end of the summer. In fact, there would be no coming home now, period. The house was sold, all of our possessions were packed, and now my mom and her boyfriend would drive me to the airport, wave goodbye, and then begin the long drive from Phoenix, Arizona to Jacksonville, Florida, where they would start a new life… without me.

No, I wasn’t bitter about it. Frankly, I had never quite gotten on with my soon-to-be stepdad, Phil. He was suffocatingly masculine and macho, and he had strong and unsolicited opinions about any breakage from gender norms. I had been able to hold my tongue on such matters long enough for the past few years, but his presence had made me long for the memory of my real father, Charlie. He was soft and quiet, from what I could recall, and he always remembered to send me birthday cards and Christmas wishes. Part of me wished that he and my mother had stayed together as a family, but I understand why they couldn’t- they were unhappy, and it would only get worse if they stayed together. So here I was, about to leave for Forks, Washington- which seemed like the edge of civilization as I thought about it now. Whereas Phoenix was hot and dry, Forks was cold and wet, when Phoenix was sunny, Forks was perpetually overcast. And when Phoenix held most of my childhood, Forks held an echo of a family that I could barely remember.

Phil honked his horn from the pickup truck. “Are we going or not?” He yelled out to us, an edge of annoyance in his voice. Phil was perpetually annoyed, a quality I wasn’t going to miss. My mom smiled sweetly at him and gave her “In a moment, sweetie.” With a gentle firmness. I was going to miss my mom, her quirks and qualms. She had only been nineteen years old when I was born, and though she wouldn’t have admitted it to me, I knew that I had interrupted her plans for herself. She hadn’t meant to get pregnant, and didn’t really want to get married- and she certainly didn’t want to stay in Forks. A part of me felt like maybe by leaving her now, I would be freeing her- but I cut off the thought before it could develop too far. I knew she loved me, and that’s all I needed to know.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s not too late to say no, Bella.” My mom asked me, with another squeeze of my hand. With a heavy heart, I smiled back at her. “Of course. I wouldn’t go this far just to turn back, y’know.” And she just smiled back at me, sadly this time, and walked to the passenger seat of the truck. This was it. The end of my life in Phoenix, the beginning of God Knows What.

-

The plane ride was fine, though granted, I slept through most of it. I had always joked to my friends in passing that I could sleep through anything, anywhere. This departure probably would have been harder had I still had many friends in Phoenix, but our group had been increasingly thinned out over the past few years, between military families being restationed and friends transferring to different schools, and it had then left me with a few friends who frankly had not seemed too deeply affected by me moving away- but that was just as well, I wouldn’t have to mourn the loss of them too deeply. 

The seat next to me had been fortuitously empty, as I could safely place my little cactus down next to me. My mother, ever the sentimental parent, had insisted on pulling over and buying me “a piece of Phoenix” to take to Washington with me. It was a sweet gesture, to be sure, and I love plants. I was never really a “people person,” but I loved nature. Anything green- cacti, ferns, trees, rushing river water- was sure to ensnare me. For that reason, my heart had skipped a beat as we circled the Seattle airport, and I drank in the lush, green forests that the Pacific Northwest was famous for. I was never very superstitious, but looking down at the old-growth trees that had been here longer than any European explorer, it was not difficult to believe in fairies and monsters that might live in these ancient, time-worn forests. 

With a bit more energy and willpower now, fully thanks to coffee and a good nap, I could actually convince myself that this would be a good kind of adventure. Forks would have new people, new experiences- a new life. 

After claiming my luggage and boarding a Greyhound bus to Port Angeles, Washington (a fishing town near Forks, and unlike Forks, actually had enough people to qualify being on the map), I resigned myself to a comfortably broken-in seat by the window and took in what would be my new home, at least for the next two years. I thought about what I could remember from Forks form my early years- trees, a diner, some beaches, a few friends… I remember my parents had a friend with a son my age, though it was a fat chance that he was still in Forks, or that we would even recognize each other. As we were winding down a two-lane forest road, the bus stopped abruptly as a deer fled across the road and then- disappeared. It was early in the morning with many of the bus’ passengers slumbering peacefully, but the driver and I both seemed rattled by the event. The deer had been there one second, and then in a flash of white across the road, it wasn’t. The driver pressed on down the road, but I couldn’t help but what it was. Eventually, I was able to shake the thought, and drifted off into a dead sleep, with my backpack clutched to my chest.

-

We jolted into the Port Angeles station with a screech of the tires, which on its own wouldn’t have roused me, but the driver’s unceremonious stop caused me to lurch forward and hit my head against the seat ahead of me, causing an almost domino-like effect with that seat’s owner, and so on. I entered the station pulling my luggage with one hand and holding my bruising cheek with the other. It was quiet and dreary outside the windows, out of which I could see that it had begun to rain, but the reception area seemed brighter when my dad- Charlie- saw me. I think that I must have been twelve years old the last time that I came to visit him when I had been feeling rebellious and decided to live with him for the summer. He had always been gentle, amiable, and very dad-like. Charlie was the strong and silent type, but he had always had a soft spot for me as his only child. He was the chief of police in Forks, a job which kept him occupied, but he made time to watch baseball when it was in-season, to eat breakfast with me in the morning, and to call if he wouldn’t be home on time. He was the kind of parent that encouraged independent children, and so we meshed well because I was never one to ask for help. He was a good dad, and he wasn’t Phil, which was really all that I could ask for right now.

“Hey, kiddo.” He said and pulled me into a bear hug. He smelled a bit like cigarettes, a vice he had yet to fully quit, though he was trying, and newsprint, probably from the newspaper he had been reading while waiting for me. I hugged him back, and it panned it my heart how much I had missed him. “Hey, Dad,” I said as he pulled back. He clicked his tongue with faux-disapproval, and remarked, “You grew up more- you’ve really got to stop doing that, Bella.” I laughed lightly and gestured to the exit. “Let’s get a move on it, so you can get settled and probably take a nap back at the house.” I nodded my approval and offered him my rolling luggage. Though I had sporadically napped throughout the night and early morning, a nap sounded great. If I couldn’t manage a full night of sleep, I would take as many naps as I could manage to make up the deficit. 

It was a quiet drive to Forks, with Charlie playing the local classic rock station, and me watching the small towns fly by. After a while, I picked up the newspaper that he had been reading and flipped through it, looking for something interesting. My eyes landed on an article on the fourth page, just above the crossword: “Increasingly Violent ‘Animal Attacks’ are Beginning to Worry Greater Port Angeles Residents.” I hadn’t heard anything about this back in Phoenix, but then again, this was a small area with many mountain lions and bears- animal attacks weren’t really national newsworthy. Still, I lingered to read the article. 

Last week, two hikers were found dead along the Hoh River Trail. Their jugulars had been ripped open, suggesting an animal attack, but DNA tests have not returned with a conclusive animal source. Several other attacks of similar circumstances have occurred over the past month in Olympic National Park, and park rangers are urging the public to be vigilant and prepared in their outdoor excursions this spring season. Rangers suggest that if you intended to be out for an extended period of time in a secluded wooded area, consider bringing bear spray with you. 

Charlie glanced away from the road and noticed my raised eyebrow as I read the article. “Heard about the animal attacks?” He asked wearily. I cleared my throat. “Uh, yeah. I didn’t hear anything about them back in Phoenix.” Charlie huffed. “Well, you know how media coverage can be. It wasn’t anyone famous or anywhere important.” I regarded him disapprovingly. “Dad. There’s no need to be so cynical.” He shrugged. “Look, I’m a police officer. I see things that justify cynicism.” I decided not to push him on the subject and dropped it.

As we turned off the highway, we passed a sign that read “Welcome to Forks, Washington!” It looked worse for wear, with the paint chipping away from the carved wood sign, but like the rest of the town, it had a weathered charm to it. The town itself had evidence everywhere of being lived in, and every building and worn path felt like a hand-me-down sweater- may be frayed, may be stained, but well-intentioned. It wasn’t Phoenix, but I was so grateful for that. I needed change; I didn’t need Phoenix.


	3. Dusty Tapes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.daybreaksaga.tumblr.com

“So, how’s your driving?” Charlie asked as we entered a residential area. “You got your license yet?” I had more or less zoned out, so it took me longer than it should have to register that he was talking to me. When my brain had caught up with reality, I responded. “Oh, no. Mom thought I should wait to take the driver’s test until I was settled here because I’d have to change my address anyway.” It was also possible, however, that might flighty mother just didn’t want to go to the DMV, which was honestly understandable. The Greater Phoenix Division of Motor Vehicles was crowded as hell and twice as hot on a good day and unfathomable on a bad one. As such, I was hard-pressed to imagine that the Port Angeles DMV could be any worse. Charlie gratified my response with a pensive grunt. “Well, that’s your mom for you. I did get you a homecoming gift if you will, but you won’t be able to do much with it until you head over to the DMV.”

There was a pause as I connected the dots in my groggy, early morning head, then, “Is this what I think it is?” Charlie chuckled and replied “Look, it’s nothing shiny, but it runs and it’s sturdy. It’s got some good, old-fashioned chrome, so it’s not going to crumble in a fender-bender.” He looked at me with a grin. “It’s a good first car. We can check it out after we get home if you’d like.” Honestly, I was ecstatic. It didn’t matter so much to me if it was held together with duct tape and willpower, a car was exiting. A car was independence and adventure. “Shut up! Of course!” I exclaimed, drumming my hands on the dashboard of his car. Charlie, ever the out-of-the-loop dad, raised an eyebrow at me saying ‘shut up.’ I laughed and justified, “It’s a saying, I swear. It’s good!” He clicked his tongue and looked back to the road. “I swear, this is like The Princess Diaries or something.” I mused. Charlie just shook his head at that comment and said, “I don’t know how to interpret that, and frankly, I’m okay staying that way.”

-

After unpacking my things back at Charlie’s house and taking the most satisfying two-hour nap ever, Charlie and I were back in his car and off to see my homecoming gift. En route, Charlie explained how it had belonged to his friend Billy, and he and his son had refurbished it and sold it to him at a great price. “Billy’s boy, Jacob, was your playmate back when you were a toddler. You used to play in the mud and get all sorts of dirty.” He chuckled, reflecting on the memory. “He’s about a year younger than you, but I bet he’s taller than you by now.” I smirked at that, and replied, “It’s not really hard to be taller than me, Dad. I got Mom’s genes in that department.” My mom was about five feet and three inches on a good day, and I was just taller than her at five feet and five inches. I wasn’t short per say, but I wasn’t tall either. I was remarkably average.

“Well, still, I think Billy would be happy if maybe you and Jacob could be friends again. And you’ll have to make some new friends here in Forks, right?” I nodded, and though I knew literally nothing about what Jacob was like now, I conceded that I did need to make new friends- or, old friends turned new. We pulled onto the road that led into the LaPush reservation, and I scoffed at what I saw: a group of teenage boys at a picnic table, shirtless, in the drizzling, low-fifties Washington weather. “Do the Forks boys have cold blood or something?” I sarcastically asked Charlie. “Hmm? Oh, no, but this is a temperate spring day up here. You’re not in Arizona anymore, Bells.” I found this quite difficult to reconcile, but I decided to bite my tongue because Charlie pulled into a driveway and stopped the car. 

The house was a wooden homestead-style, which was pretty popular among lumber towns like Forks. Though it was probably a fairly old house, it was well taken care of. It looked recently painted, and the front porch had two howling wolves painted on it in a traditional native style. A ramp appeared to be a newer addition to the porch, judging by the color of the wood, and as the door opened, I could see why. Billy’s face- and his smile specifically- immediately registered in my memory. He was as lively as ever but now needed a wheelchair to get around. I remembered Billy as being energetic and a dancer, so I felt a soft pang in my chest at seeing him not be able to pursue that hobby anymore. Jacob followed out the door after his father and was barely recognizable as my childhood companion. He was tall and lean, almost lanky-looking. He seemed like he had shot up in height, but the rest of his body hadn’t quite caught up yet. His hair was a rich, thick black, braided at the back of his head. His skin- though peppered with acne from being sixteen- was a warm brown, like he might hold a bit of the sun inside him that radiated out. As he got closer to me, the shine of his dark eyes only further convinced me of this theory. 

“So, the mythical Bella Swan.” He said, giving me an appraising look for effect.

I gave Charlie, who was still standing at the driver’s side door of his car, a skeptical look, before replying to Jacob, “Excuse me?”

Jacob laughed. “It’s just that Charlie talked about his daughter so much that we began to wonder if he had imagined her.” At this point, Billy caught up with his son and added, “Oh, but you have proof of her existence in your baby pictures, Jake.” He patted Jacob, now a bit flushed, on the back and then reached forward to me, offering a hug. I leaned down to oblige him, and he said, “Oh, Bella. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

He pulled away and gestured to Charlie. “So, should we show her it?” 

-

The car was fantastic- I meant that, with utmost honesty. Sure, it had seen better days, but it was a car, with all of the tidings of teenage freedom. It was an orange Ford pickup truck, probably around thirty years old, but Charlie was right when he said that a little TLC had done it wonders. Enthused by my newfound toy, and after thanking Charlie for being such an easy-going parent, Jacob and I climbed into the cab of the truck and did some figure-eights on the gravel road that ran through the reservation. He had rolled the window down (literally rolled- it was that old) and was sticking his hand out, grabbing at the threads of wind and letting it ruffle his hair. I pulled my gaze away from him pretty quickly, though, after considering that I didn’t want to crash my new truck on my first day back in Forks.

After a few minutes, I parked the car and leaned back in the seat, laughing at everything this day had brought so far. Jacob gave me a look that suggested he was judging me, but in a playful way. Finally, once I had quieted down, he spoke up. 

“So, uh, unfortunately, we had to take out the radio because it was just… beyond repair. But, I did snag a pretty decent cassette player from the thrift store in town and fixed it in your console.” He gestured to the appliance, a bit of smugness seeping through at his ingenuity. 

“Ugh, too bad I didn’t bring any tapes up from Arizona,” I said, suddenly regretting some of my packing choices. I had a thing for old mixtapes, vestiges of other peoples’ thoughts and past, and they were nice to zone out to while I worked on homework. 

Jacob perked up. “Well, we could swing by the vintage shop if you want- they’ve definitely got some cheap tapes to pick from… is Charlie okay with us going?”

I poked my head out of the car and saw that Charlie had gone in the house and closed the door. “Honestly?” I said, turning back to him. “I don’t think he’ll even notice.”

-

Jacob and I pulled into a sort of odds-and-ends thrift shop in Central Forks, and it was a dull drizzle outside. As we walked in, a bell over the door signaled our arrival, but there weren’t many people to take notice. I commented on this to Jacob, who reminded me that it was about eleven in the morning on a weekday, so it wasn’t exactly prime shopping time. I guessed that he was right. He steered us over to the electronics sections, which was really just a bunch of folding tables with boxes of loosely-organized scrap materials. One, however, did hold some tapes. I started to thumb through them and pulled out “Transatlanticism” by Death Cab for Cutie. 

“Sweeeeet. I really hope that this plays.” I said, and plopped it into the mesh bag I had in my pocket for surprise shopping like this- Phoenix was a green city, and old habits die hard, I guess. I had picked up a few mixtapes that seemed interesting and was considering the hand-drained cover on one of them when we heard the doorbell jingle again. I craned my neck around Jacob to try to see who it was- but all I could see was the top of a black pixie cut bobbing along the clothing shelves.

Before I could say anything, Jacob squeezed my arm and quietly answered my mental question: “That’s Alice Cullen. Local girl, she goes to Forks High.” 

I raised an eyebrow at this for a number of reasons, but only voiced one, “I don’t remember a Cullen family when I was a kid.” 

Jacob gave a slow nod, eyes still on the tuft of hair. “Weird family, a bit reclusive. They’ve had a house in the woods outside town forever, but up and moved to Alaska for a few years about a decade back for no clear reason. Her dad’s a doctor in town, her mom’s a homemaker- all alone in the woods.” I scoffed. “Like you don’t also live in the woods outside civilization?”

Jacob narrowed his eyes but didn’t look away from Alice. “I live in the woods for cultural reasons, not because I’m a hermit with five kids who don’t socialize with anyone outside their family.”

Jeez, I thought. He sounded really hostile about it. However, his claim about them being antisocial seemed ostensibly false, because just then, the petite girl stood on her tiptoes and saw us over the shelves. She looked surprised, and then popped back down. Then, as if by magic, she had rounded the corner and was only a few feet away. I jumped a bit as she offered me a hand to shake.

“Hi, there! I haven’t seen you around Forks before, have you just moved here?” I took her hand with some hesitation and nodded, before pausing. “Uh, yes and no. I used to live here with my dad as a kid, and I just moved back. I’m uh, Isabella Swan. But “just Bella” works, too.”

She shook my hand vigorously. For a girl of maybe 4’10”, she had a killer grip. “I’m Alice Cullen, Bella. Is your dad Charlie, then?” She looked up at me, into my eyes, just then, and her eyes jarred me. They were a gorgeous amber color, like a jar of honor in the sunlight. I don’t think I had ever seen a more beautiful set eye in a real person, and part of me felt that they couldn’t be real- but there was no evidence of contact lenses in her eyes, so I had to assume that it was, by some miracle, natural.

“Yeah, he is… uh, Jacob here tells me you’re at Forks High School?” I followed up. In a moment so quick that I almost missed it, Alice and Jacob exchanged a mutual look of distrust and disdain, before she shifted back to me with the aura cheerfulness that she had before. “Yep! She said. “Oh!” She remarked and reached into her pocket. She pulled out a pen and notepad and jotted something down quickly. Ripping off the page, she handed it to me. “Here’s my phone number if you want to talk before school starts!” Before I could reply to that, she seemed to be already at the door, where he smiled and mouthed “call me!” To me.

Once she had left, I processed the incredibly fast interaction in the quiet of the store, until it was broken by the ringing of a service bell at the desk. I looked over to the cashier, who definitely had not been there a minute ago, and felt even more confused.

“Are you ready to check out, Miss?” The cashier asked. I gave a half-hearted nod and started to walk over. As I did, Jacob shook his head in disapproval. “She didn’t even come to buy anything.” He said to himself.


End file.
